Page 35 of One Last Rodeo

She moves to undo her jeans. “Okay, well—”

“Whoa,” I blurt, stepping forward. “Slow down for me. Let me do it.”

She stops and looks at me like she’s confused. “Why? I can undress myself.”

My voice dips on a chuckle. “I know what you're capable of, but I want to. I want to savor this.”

She blinks up at me—wide brown eyes, unguarded for once. She’s never had a man take his time with her. I can tell. She's rushing too fast to the finish. That realization motivates me to slow this down even more.

I gently undo my shoulder sling, pull my arm out and stretch my fingers a few times.

“Jensen…” she says softly.

I shake my head. “It’s fine. Let me do this.”

She watches me with cautious eyes as I remove the sling completely and toss it aside. Then I wrap my fingers around the button of her jeans and pop it open, easing the zipper down slow enough to feel her breath hitch. Her full breasts brush my chest with the lace fabric. They’re heavy and warm. Her lips part in surprise with each pass of my fingers against the top of her pelvis. There’s a tiny tremble in her exhale and I can see she's getting wrapped up in her head.

I sink to my knees as I tug her jeans down, helping her step out of them carefully, one foot at a time. When I rise again, she’s standing there in a matching bra and panty set—red lace against brown skin—so damn gorgeous I have to swallow her name before it comes out like a prayer.

I didn’t expect this.

I didn’t expect her.

I don't know what I was expecting getting her to come upstairs to my room. But it sure as hell wasn't allthis.

“Lay back on the bed for me,” I say roughly.

She moves backward cautiously, lowering herself slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. She scoots toward the middle until her legs are dangling off the edge, slightly parted, like an unspoken invitation.

I stand at the foot of the bed, drinking her in for a long moment before leaning forward. My knuckles graze over the lace that’s covering her pussy. She flinches with the contact.

I look up at her. "Was that alright?"

She nods. “I just... wasn't expecting it."

I press her thighs apart a little wider, then tug the fabric gently to the side to expose her pussy. Gorgeous.

Her breathing changes again. It's deeper now, like she's not getting enough oxygen.

"You still good?" I ask.

She nods. "Yep. Just fine."

I smile at the way her body flushes at my gaze.

“So,” she whispers, vulnerability ghosting across her face for the first time. “You know I’m experienced, but… not that experienced.”

“Just let me take care of you and you don't worry about experience levels.”

She nods once, a tiny, trusting movement. I look between her legs again, and smile. The prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Of course it is. Everything on Catalina is beautiful. And all I can think about is how a man could have all this woman, brains, wit, and beauty, and manage to lose it so foolishly.

Don't know the guy, but I know he wasn't enjoying her right.

I lower my mouth and lick her, tasting her for the first time. Warm. Sweet. A whole lot addictive. I do it again—another lick, deeper, slower—letting the taste of her sit heavy on my tongue. My tongue drags up to her clit where I press it firmly then circle the bud a few times just to see how she likes that. She’s intoxicating.

My tongue spikes into her opening and my nose nudges her clit. Her legs tremble like she can't control them, and then they firmly press on either side of my head, closing me in.

“Lift up a little for me,” I say softly.